


In the Absence of Intention

by silverraven



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dirty Talk, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-26
Updated: 2010-05-26
Packaged: 2017-10-09 17:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverraven/pseuds/silverraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All I wanted to write was John and Rodney making out in a cab and somehow this happened. I don't even know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Absence of Intention

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 4.09 Miller's
> 
> Enormous thanks to [](http://kisahawklin.livejournal.com/profile)[**kisahawklin**](http://kisahawklin.livejournal.com/)! She critiqued and encouraged and edited and as if that wasn't enough, the title is all her too. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

Rodney watched impatiently as his older sister eyed herself in the department store mirror. “It’s hideous,” Jeannie said, tugging at the chestnut colored cocktail dress. “The color, the fit, it’s horrible.”

Rodney threw himself into the lone chair outside the women's fitting room and blew a breath upwards. He was exhausted from running back and forth, trying to find something for Jeannie to wear. “It looks fine to me. Just like the last hundred dresses you‘re tried on.”

“It’s not fine, Rodney, it looks awful,” Jeannie replied resolutely. "I've got to find something to wear.”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “You’re tried on everything in the store.”

“There has to be something! I need a nice dress to wear the award banquet. Come on, Rodney - you know I’m desperate, and you promised to help.”

Glancing pointedly at the mountain of dresses half visible from the dressing room Jeannie was using, he muttered, “That was before I know this was going to be a never ending marathon. I should’ve brought lunch. You do remember lunch, don’t you? It’s the meal we should have had yesterday.”

“We’ll eat as soon as I find something to wear,” Jeannie said stubbornly. “Go ask someone to help you.”

"There isn't anyone - you've driven them all out." He narrowed his eyes. “They all went to lunch.”

“Funny.” Jeanne struggled to reach the zipper located on the back of her dress. She looked over her shoulder to Rodney. “A little help here."

Sighing heavily, Rodney got up sluggishly, purposely taking his time and smirking at Jeannie's glare before pulling the zipper down. “Are you buying this one or not?”

“God, no…but I suppose the lavender one wasn’t that bad.” Jeannie returned to her fitting room and emerged a few minutes later wearing her black slacks and green turtleneck.

When Rodney noticed the lavender strapless dress draped over her arm, he brightened. “Does this mean we’re leaving?” he asked eagerly. “Can we _finally_ get something to eat?"

Jeannie rolled her eyes before looking at her watch. “Oh, I didn’t realize it was so late. I’m sorry, Rodney, I have to get back to the office.”

“What! After all this?”

“I know, I know. But I promised Dad I’d be back by one. It’s Michelle’s birthday.” At his blank stare, Jeannie added, “You know, Dad’s secretary. She‘s only worked there like ten years, Rodney.”

“Oh, Michelle. I always though her name was Marabelle.” What did her name matter anyway? Rodney had stopped caring what went on at McKay Medical Technologies a long time ago, preferring to spend his time running his own business. Pegasus Labs might be small fries in comparison, but Rodney was damn proud of it. He had started it from the ground up and all without a nickel of his father’s money.

Jeannie frowned. “Well, anyway, it’s her birthday and Dad has plans to -”

“Take her out to lunch,” Rodney guessed.

“I’m sorry,” Jeannie said again. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“How? By taking me out to dinner?”

Jeannie put her free hand on her hip, looking exasperated. “Is that all you ever think about - food?”

“No, I think about men occasionally too.” Rodney smirked. “Don’t you?”

Jeannie smiled. “Just don’t let dad hear you say that.”

“Yeah,” Rodney said as they went about finding a sales associate. Although he had ’come out’ many years ago, the relationship between him and his father was…strained at best.

“I rented a tux for you. It should arrive tomorrow,” she said.

“What? Oh, no.” Rodney shook his head as he realized what Jeannie meant. “You can’t honestly think I’m going to go.”

“Yes, I do,” Jeannie said as they stepped in line behind an older woman. “I know you two have your differences -”

Rodney couldn’t help snorting. “Understatement of the year,” he mumbled under his breath and Jeannie glared at him.

“He’s our father, Rodney. This is a big deal for him - for all of us - and I know he’ll want you there.”

Rodney wasn’t so sure about that, sometimes the man could barely look him in the eye. “He won’t,” Rodney said but Jeannie didn’t hear, bustling forward to the customer service desk.

“Besides, you need to get out more,” she said, laying her dress on the counter.

“I get out plenty!” he snapped, straightening his spine and crossing his arms. He loved his sister, he really did, but sometimes…

“You’re only twenty-six years old, Rodney,” Jeannie said, giving the cashier a credit card. “You need to be out…sowing your wild oats.”

“Hey! I've sown plenty of oats.” He grimaced. That didn't come out right. “I’m not going.”

Jeannie signed the receipt and looked up at Rodney with big pleading blues eyes. “Please. For me.”

Rodney’s shoulders slumped. “I hate you.”

Jeannie smiled brightly and took the dress. “You won’t regret it.”

  
~ ~ ~ ~

  
The heels of Rodney’s shoes clicked on the marble tiled floor. He stopped at the entrance to the ballroom where the reception was being held and took a deep breath. This was why he hated these types of events. As if the bow-tie and sitting through people’s boring and endless acceptance speeches wasn’t enough, now he had to _mingle_.

There had to be two hundred people here, spread around the room, like a 3D presentation of molecules undergoing diffusion. Some standing in small groups, others sitting at tables dotting the dance floor as dozens of couples danced to a big band orchestra with saxophones and trumpets.

Rodney spotted a slightly heavy-set woman wearing an absurd peacock-feather dress and nearly laughed out loud but his breath caught when he caught a glimpse of Sam Carter.

Oh God, Samuel Carter was _here_.

No big deal, Rodney told himself, so what if Sam was here? He’s only the man that Rodney's been jerking off to almost nightly for _years._

Yeah, no big deal.

Sam looked spectacularly good in a tuxedo - tall, muscular, broad shoulders. Bright blue eyes and strong chin, lips almost too femininely shaped. Almost, but not quite. And short wavy blonde hair that Rodney's fingers itched to touch.

Rodney puffed out his chest as he approached Sam, trying his best to ignore the waves of nervousness spreading through him. “Captain Carter,” he greeted with a grin. “I know I’m impossible to resist, but coming all the way to New York just to see me, I’m flattered.”

“You wish, McKay,” Sam said, smirking. “I’m here for your father.”

Oh. That made sense actually. He knew that McKay Medical had recently signed some deal with the Air Force. Jeannie had been unusually cryptic about the whole thing. “I think I’ll go congratulate the man of the hour.” Sam’s lips curved even more before he turned to go, as if he knew something Rodney didn’t.

As Rodney watched, a dark haired man also in a tux, approached Sam, said something to make him laugh. Christ, didn’t it figure that all ridiculously attractive men would know each other? The second man had his back to Rodney, but the expensive fabric of his tux looked as if it had been cut and sewn with his body in mind. He was shorter than Sam, leaner, with lousy posture. The man turned and Rodney’s mouth went dry - he wasn’t classically handsome, what with messy hair, a pair of elfin ears, and a nose that curved slightly to one side, but there was something about him…

Not that it mattered anyway. Chances are he’s as straight as a board, just like Carter. Rodney looked away and spotted the bar. He was able to find an empty space at the end of the long-bar, tapping his foot petulantly as he waited for the bartender.

He felt something jab sharply at his shoulder and grimaced. He turned around, already grousing, “Watch where the hell you’re -“ It was him, the guy he saw with Sam, “- going,” Rodney finished, voice faltering.

“Sorry,” crazy hair said, not appearing apologetic in the least. “Crowded bar.” He spoke with a slight drawl in his voice that Rodney should have expected but was surprised by anyway. “I’m John Sheppard,” he said, leaning towards Rodney as the crush of people at the bar continued to grow.

“Uh, M-McKay.” Rodney coughed. “Doctor Rodney McKay.”

John grinned devilishly. “So you’re Ian's son.”

“Yeah,” he answered, not liking what the smile did to his insides, made him feel like he was at the top of the eighty foot drop on the Eagle at Six Flags. John Sheppard was trouble, Rodney was sure of it.

John’s smile widened. “Heard you two don’t get along.”

Rodney pressed his lip together and narrowed his eyes to glare at John. “And this is supposed to be news, how?”

John’s smile morphed into a full-fledged grin. “Just making conversation.”

Great. Pretty but dim-witted. "Were you deprived of oxygen at birth?"

John let out a snorty laugh that sounded like a mule dying. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”

“I wasn’t aware I was supposed to,” he answered. Someone pushed in next to Rodney, forcing him to take a step closer to John. “Um, how about…do you want to have a drink? With me, I mean.”

“Okay.”

He swallowed. “Good, that’s good,” he said, voice rising on the last word. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Beer,” John replied, close enough to him that their sides were touching.

Rodney loosened his bow-tie and turned around, signaling the bartender. “What can I get you?”

“Two beers,” Rodney said. “Whatever you have that’s imported and bottled.”

Once the drinks were placed in front of them, Rodney immediately took a long chug of the foaming liquid. He began to move away from the crowded bar, pleased when John followed. “So, you work with Captain Carter?” he asked as they wove through a group of people, searching for the nearest alcove not completely filled with power-hungry clientele or their debutante wives and daughters.

“Yeah,” John said and Rodney took a drink as he waited for John to continue, but he didn’t. Apparently the guy wasn’t much of a talker.

Rodney found an open table near the wall and turned to face John. “Do you work on deep-space telemetry too?”

John blinked stupidly, as if he had no idea what Rodney was talking about. “Not everyone working there does that,” John said, leaning against the wall.

“Then what -”

“Cheyenne Mountain is still a military facility. I’m a pilot,"

Rodney was about to ask why anyone would need a pilot half a mile under a mountain when John set his drink down on the round table and asked, “Hey, you want to piss off dear old dad?”

He perked up, intrigued. “What are you talking about, Sheppard?”

“Dance with me?” John invited, setting down his drink and holding out his hand.

“Wha…Are you insane?“ he whispered harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard. Obviously, John really was an idiot. “You’re military, it could -”

“President repealed Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell weeks ago. Now, come on.” John tugged on Rodney’s arm and after finishing his beer in three large gulps, he let John lead him to the dance floor.

Rodney noticed Jeannie staring at them, eyebrows creased, though she didn't look upset - only curious. John’s strong arms surrounded Rodney, tightening to pull him close against John's lithe body.

Rodney had never danced with a man before, it was…kind of nice. He felt John’s hand on the middle of his back, moving down slowly, sensuously. He bit his lip to keep from making any noise and spied his father staring at them, anger and disgust pouring off of him.

Rodney looked him dead in eye, felt the corners of his mouth curve upwards and pulled John closer to him until there was hardly any space between them.

Jesus Christ, John smelled good, earthy and fresh, like spring rain. “Mmm.” John’s breath was warm as he spoke into Rodney’s ear, “That’s nice.”

Startled, Rodney realized he was stroking the back of John’s head, twining his fingers in John’s thick and soft hair. John’s fingers creeping down his back felt sinfully good, sending both chills and heat down Rodney’s spine with each press.

“I think everyone is watching us,” John said as the song ended, though he didn’t let go. “Ian is watching us too.” His eyes were glued to Rodney’s mouth.

“Who?” Rodney mumbled, unable to focus on John's words, his mind strangely fuzzy.

“Ian,” John repeated. “Your father.”

“Oh.”

John smirked. “Want to give him something to really look at?” Rodney nervously moistened his lips and it seemed to be the only invitation John needed. He bent down and brushed their mouths together. It was sweet and over far too quickly - a single taste, one tiny, almost nonexistent kiss.

It wasn’t enough.

“I don’t know,” Rodney said, ignoring the fact that he could see some people openly gawking from the corner of his eye. “Do you think he noticed? We better do it again to make sure."

He kissed John, letting his mouth linger, tasting tiramisu and something uniquely John. He tried to keep it sweet but then John made a low noise from the back of his throat and their tongues touched and blood started to head south and he needed to leave. Right _now_. To his apartment, or John’s place, hell Rodney would be happy with an empty coat room, locking the door behind them and -

John leaned in, his lips right next to Rodney's ear as he whispered, “What do you say we get out of here?”

“God, _yes_.”

  
~ ~ ~ ~

  
Oh god, he was really doing this. He’s going to have sex with a stranger – a really _hot_ one – but still, a stranger.

Rodney stared as John finally managed to flag down a cab, the car screeching to a halt a little past them. Rodney was closer to the car door and reached for it clumsily, not sure if he was supposed to climb in first or hold the door open. Luckily John crawled in immediately and pulled Rodney in after him.

He heard John tell the driver, “The Alex Hotel,” and shut the door with a shaky hand as the driver was already merging onto traffic.

“So, how long you-“ Rodney began, but was stopped by John grabbing him and mashing their mouths together, kissing Rodney like he just couldn’t help himself.

Rodney shifted his hands to John’s chest and pushed him away. “Not here.” He eyed the cab driver anxiously, but he wasn't paying them any attention.

“He’s a New York City cabbie, I’m sure he’s seen worse,” John said, as he was pressing kisses along Rodney’s neck and running his fingers over Rodney’s thigh. That wasn't fair. Rodney couldn't think when John was touching him.

John increased the pressure of his fingers against Rodney’s thigh, his whole hand curving around it as he crept slowly upwards. His index finger brushed daringly close to the erection that Rodney was desperately trying to hide.

Rodney bit his lip, looked once more at the driver, who was staring directly ahead, and surrendered. He grabbed John’s chin, forcing it up and brought his lips against John’s. God, John's mouth, tangy and sweet. Rodney could get addicted to that taste. He captured John’s warm, slightly sweaty wrist and pressed John’s palm along his cock, aching to feel John’s hand on him.

He heard John groan, let go of John's hand as John started rubbing at his hard-on. Rodney moaned softly, thrilled at the realization that he was being felt up in the back seat of a cab.

He’s never been this turned on, felt this out of control. He reached for John’s cock, gasped when he felt a hard bulge and John bucked into his palm. He stroked John through his pants, matching the rhythm John was using on him, only broken by the occasional jerk from potholes and the stops and starts with the changing street lights.

Through it all, the kisses never stopped. Wet, open mouthed kisses that left Rodney dizzy and dazed and hungry for more.

They jerked violently as the car came to a stop and it took him a long moment to realize they’d reached their destination.

John was staggering getting his wallet out, pulling out a couple bills and Rodney hastily opened the door, unable to look at the driver.

He heard John shut the door, felt John coming in close behind him. “Don’t get shy on me now,” he said into Rodney’s ear, pressing his cock against Rodney’s ass and Rodney’s shiver had nothing to do with the cold temperature.

He lead Rodney through the revolving glass door entrance of the hotel, past the lobby and once inside the elevator, he pushed Rodney against the wall, pressing his body against Rodney's and Rodney's breath caught.

He fisted the lapels on John’s jacket, yanking John forward and taking full advantage of John’s open mouth, nibbling on John’s lower lip before plunging his tongue inside.

The elevator doors opened with ding and they stumbled out. Rodney blindly following John. John fumbled with the card key and cursed before trying again, the green light clicking on, and he shoved the door open.

Then they were back against one other, tugging each others shirts and jackets off, kissing wildly. Rodney’s hands greedily stroked along John hips and chest, fingertips combing through the short patches of coarse hair he found there.

“Rodney,” John groaned, squeezing Rodney’s ass and hauling him back against the door. “I want to fuck you so bad. Wanna hear you scream my name.” John’s voice was rough and Rodney shuddered. “Wanna take you so bad, right here. Now. Just turn you around and fuck your brains out.” Rodney whimpered, his eyes widening and he gripped John's forearm more tightly. “Christ,” John said, looking surprised as he took in Rodney’s reaction. “You'd let me, wouldn’t you?”

John caressed his thumbs down Rodney’s neck and lowered his mouth to Rodney’s collarbone, sucking on his skin. Rodney’s arched his neck, the back of his head hitting the door. He was reeling, overwhelmed by his desire for this man.

“God, the things I want to do to you,” John rasped into his collarbone and Rodney made a tight sound, imagining what kind of things John was talking about, wanting John to shut up and do something already.

“So far the only thing you’ve done is talk,” he said hoarsely and managed to reverse their positions, pressing John into the wall. “Or is that all you do? Talk someone to death,” he jeered.

It worked.

John had him pinned down on the floor in a blink of an eye, his hands holding Rodney’s wrists securely above his head.

Fuck, that was hot. He couldn’t control the slight quake of his body or his cock from twitching. No way John missed that. Not with his ass firmly situated on Rodney’s groin.

John grinned wickedly. “Just for that, McKay,” John said, licking his lips, “I’m going to make you _beg_ for it.”

“Ha! Good luck, I’ve never begged for anything.”

“Well see.” John resumed sucking on his neck, transferring Rodney’s wrists to one hand. He reached for Rodney’s pants, lowering the zipper and sliding his palm into Rodney’s boxers, grasping his cock.

“Fuck,” Rodney groaned, jerking violently. John’s hand tightened before beginning to jack him with leisurely strokes. John’s soft lips traced patterns along Rodney’s skin, his tongue licked at the hollow of Rodney's throat and Rodney had to close his eyes, like a sudden burst of sunlight was blinding him.

John lightly scraped his fingernail down the vein on the underside of Rodney’s cock and Rodney couldn’t control the high, sharp noise that he made. He squirmed beneath John, trying to free his hands but John constricted his palm even more around Rodney’s wrists, pulling his other hand away from Rodney’s cock.

Rodney whined, pressing his body closer towards John.

John put more of his weight on Rodney, pushing him back to lay flat on the wooden floor. “Like this,” John said, nosing at Rodney’s chin.

Rodney shook his head, opening his mouth to protest but John’s lips were suddenly there, kissing him. John nipped on the side of Rodney’s mouth, his jaw, his bottom lip, dipping his tongue inside in short bursts that were driving Rodney crazy.

When John pulled away, his lips were puffy, his green-gold eyes bright, cheeks flushed red and Rodney’s breath caught. His hips arched up, right into John’s hard cock.

John hissed loudly, his hand releasing Rodney and suddenly they were both ripping off the rest of their clothes. Everything thrown off in a flurry until they were both naked and touching again, fumbling onto the king size bed in a tangle of ungraceful limbs, grinding against each other, tongues lapping blindly at any patch of salty skin they could reach.

Rodney closed his eyes as John kissed his way down his chest, small spikes of pleasure crackling at each place John’s lips touched. When John took his cock in his mouth in one go, Rodney lunched upwards, his eyes snapping open and he watched, hypnotized, as John's throat and jaw worked to take him in deep.

John mouth was fucking perfection, hot and wet and Rodney’s hips jerked up automatically.

John just took it. Rodney groaned, thrusting up again and John took it. He went deeper, his mouth stretched obscenely around Rodney’s cock and right when he was about to come, John abruptly let go.

“Wha - no! Why -“ He was interrupted by John holding him down again.

“You’ll come when I’m inside you,” John growled into his ear, his knees pushing Rodney’s legs apart.

Rodney sputtered at the ceiling, “Yes, fine, okay – just _do something_ already!”

One corner of John’s mouth lifted. “That sounds awfully close to begging, McKay.”

He huffed out a deep breath, lifting his back and resting the weight on his elbows, looking on as John reached for his wallet, digging around and producing a condom and small tube of lubricant. Rodney wasn’t going to think about what that said about John Sheppard, he simply laid back down and drew his knees up until his feet were planted against the bed.

John’s mouth was on his again and Rodney felt a teasing touch near his hole, a lone digit circling with a feather light touch. He spread his legs wider, hoping to speed John along.

He inhaled sharply as the finger penetrated, gasping when it hit his prostate dead on as if John had a laser on the tip of his finger. But John made no move to do it again, he didn’t do anything.

“Fuck yourself on my finger, Rodney. I want to see you.”

Oh, for the love of… “Sheppard,” he whined, beginning to wonder if the sex was going to be worth it, but one look at his dick, dark red, shiny with John’s saliva, and leaking pre-come told him it probably was. “Fine,” he gruffed and rocked as best he could on John’s finger.

“Fuck, Rodney. You look…” John made a noise that sounded like a whimper, his eyes glued to Rodney’s ass. “Makes me want to…”

Rodney stilled his movements. “I make you want to what – fuck me?” he asked with spite. “Because this? Isn’t anything I can’t do by myself.”

John’s eyebrows rose. “You fuck yourself with your fingers?”

“Like you don’t,” he said with a roll of the eyes.

“What else?” John asked, surprising Rodney by pushing in another finger and scissoring them. Finally. “Dildos?”

“Maybe," he said with a glare. What the hell was this - an inquisition?

“Fuck. I’d want -”

When John didn’t finish, Rodney looked at him. “What? To watch? You’re just a regular peeping Tom, aren’t you?” he said sourly and then squeaked when John curled his fingers and hit his sweet spot. “Yes, yes, I’m ready, you can fuck me.” John didn’t move. “Now would be good, come on, Sheppard!” He grabbed at John upper arms, trying to move him along.

“You’re really hot when you’re impatient."

“I’m always impatient,” he replied then his eyes rolled in the back of his head as John pushed in a third finger, pressing against his prostate again and again. He was making noises, only he had no idea what. He was rocking streadily into John’s hand, heart racing a hundred miles per hour.

He felt John licking at his ear and immediately tilted his head to give John better access. “Christ, Rodney, you’re so responsive. Makes me…”

“What?!” he snapped, digging his fingers into John’s skin. It was like pulling teeth with him. “Makes you want to what? Just. Tell. Me.”

“I want to fuck you raw,” John growled into the side of his face, “until you feel me in your fucking throat. I want you under me, screaming out my name over and over.” Rodney whimpered, his body going lax. “Yeah, that's it. You make the prettiest sounds, Rodney.” John bit at his jaw, his fingers relentless with Rodney’s prostate. Rodney closed his eyes and flashes of white light exploded behind his eyelids.

“I want to fuck you again and again until the only thing you can think about is me,” John said and Rodney shuddered, opening his eyes, his fingernails scraping along John’s biceps. “Until the only thing you know is my dick inside you.”

John’s free hand grazed Rodney’s aching cock and he gasped, “John.”

John squeezed Rodney’s cock as the fingers of his other hand brushed against Rodney’s prostate and Rodney was going to come if John didn’t stop. “I want to feel you tight around me, want to –“

“_Yesss_,” he hissed out, not able to take it anymore. “Do it, now now now.”

John fingers slid out of him, taking the condom and rolling it on. Rodney watched as John seemed to take forever to spread the gel.

“Come on, Sheppard,” he demanded, snatching the small bottle and throwing it on the floor. “Fuck me.”

“Are you begging me?” he asked innocently.

Rodney’s eyes widened, the motherfucker…“Yes, you bastard! Are you happy - I’m fucking begging you. _Please_.” And so help him, if John so much as smirked, he was going to leave.

John didn’t smirk, he didn't even blink. He grabbed Rodney’s thighs, lifting them up and out, and settled on top of him. John pushed in - finally! - and Rodney exhaled quickly, babbling incoherently as John stretched him, his body buzzing with the pleasure of being filled.

He pawed at John, yanking his head down so they could kiss, Rodney’s legs and back burned from the strain of the position, but he didn’t care. He needed to feel John’s mouth on his if only for a little while.

They found a rhythm, slow but good, Rodney reveling in the sensation of John inside of him. Fuck, he never wanted John to leave. He shifted, contracting his muscles in the process and John’s breath hitched.

Rodney gazed at John’s face, took in the tense lines and set jaw and realized, _he’s holding himself back_. Moron.

He fisted his hands in the bedspread, fighting the urge to swat John’s idiotic head. “You don’t have to hold back, I won’t break," he sniped out.

“Rodney,” John breathed, meeting Rodney’s eyes for a long moment before he nodded. John hooked Rodney’s legs on his shoulders and drove his hips forward hard.

Rodney yelled, digging his heels in John’s back, his sweaty hands scrunching the thick duvet. John didn’t slow down, thrusting into Rodney without mercy.

Somehow John got a hand between them, wrapping it around Rodney’s straining erection. Rodney grunted John’s name, his eyes rolling back in his head. His world narrowed to the feeling of John over him, in him, John’s harsh breathing suddenly filled his ears, and the only thought on his mind was John fucking him, harder, faster.

The speed of John's hand increased and Rodney felt the beginning of his orgasm sparkling along his nerves. John pounded into him frantically, uncontrollably, each thrust driving Rodney closer and closer to the brink. John nailed Rodney's prostate hard and that was it, Rodney’s whole body shook, his back arching off the bed as he spilled all over his stomach and John's hand.

"Jesus, Rodney," John groaned with a quick snap of the hips and Rodney felt John's hands clamping down hard at his sides as John's cock pulsed inside of him.

Rodney stretched out on the bed, John still half on top of him. They were both panting, bodies covered with sweat but they made no move to pull apart. Rodney didn’t care, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed.

John’s head was pillowed on his chest, his hair tickling Rodney’s chin, and Rodney was slowly running his fingers up and down John’s back. His breath hitched when John slipped out. “Sorry,” John muttered then moved away, trashing the condom and tugging the covers over them before pulling Rodney close again.

He pressed a kiss onto Rodney’s shoulder and Rodney made a soft pleased sound, curling around John. Tonight had been spectacular, the best sex he’d ever had by an order of magnitude.

Rodney yawned, burrowing further into John and closing his eyes.

He'll have to thank Jeannie in the morning, for...

  
~ ~ ~ ~

  
When Rodney woke up John was gone, the only sign that he’d ever been there was the used condom in the trash can.

  
~ ~ ~ ~

  
**Four Years Later**

  
“This is all your fault,” Rodney accused when the guards had left the lab.

“My fault!” Jeannie screeched. “How could us getting kidnapped be _my_ fault?”

“You’re the one who asked me to join McKay Medical when Dad died, _begging_ me to help. You’re the one -“

“I did _not_,” she interrupted and poked Rodney in the chest. “As I recall, the body wasn’t even cold before you stormed into his office and made yourself comfortable, hacking into his computer. There was confidential information on there, Rodney.”

And he still couldn’t believe that Jeannie had never told him. Newly-declassified military experiments his ass.

“Someone needed to do something,” Rodney said, straightening his spine and lifting his chin. “You were in no position…”

“Our Dad had just _died_, Rodney! Not to mention I was eight months pregnant and Kaleb -“ Jeannie choked out the last word and she turned her face away.

If Rodney ever saw that bastard again, he would kill him for abandoning Jeannie. “I told you not to get involved with an English teacher,” Rodney said and then bit his lip, shamefaced, as he took in Jeannie’s shattered expression. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Rodney wrapped his arm around Jeannie, trying to comfort her. “Madison’s kind of cool and in the year we’re worked together, the company has gone to number one, Dad would have...” Rodney swallowed against the lump in his throat. Despite everything, he had still loved his father. “…been proud.”

Jeannie hiccuped and smiled softly. “You think Madison’s cool?”

“I said ‘kind of cool’.” Jeannie wiped her eyes quickly and kissed Rodney’s cheek. Rodney felt his neck heating and after squeezing his sister once more, he pulled away. “So, what do you say we get out of here?”

“What do you have in mind?”

  
~ ~ ~ ~

  
Thirty minutes later, his brilliant escape plan wasn’t going so well. They were lost, wandering the hallways aimlessly. "This way," he said, turning left, hoping to locate the god damn exit.

What the hell was Henry Wallace thinking?! That they would miraculously know how to help his daughter -

The screeching of an alarm sounded and he and Jeannie scrambled to find an unlocked door but in moments four guards were surrounding them, guns out . Rodney’s hands went up automatically.

“So, uh, we’ll just be going back to the lab then,” he said, looking around and signaling back with his thumb. “This way, right?”

Two more guards appeared and roughly grabbed them. “Hey! We’re going, we’re going,” Rodney said but the captors didn’t loosen their hold. They didn't let go until Jeannie and Rodney were back in the lab.

Rodney gently rubbed his aching upper arm as the door shut, locking him and Jeannie in. “That’s probably going to bruise,” he remarked grimly, sliding his shirt up and looking at the reddened skin.

“Your arm will heal, Dr. McKay,” a male voice said from across the room. Rodney turned his head. It was Wallace. “Unlike my daughter.” He moved closer to them and Rodney shifted to stand on front of Jeannie. “She’s _dying_ and you two…” Wallace shook his head, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Why don’t you want to help her?”

“We can’t,” Rodney answered, staring just over Wallace's shoulder.

“No, you _won’t_ help her. You two are the leading experts in nanite technology.”

“And it’s all still experimental,” Jeannie explained, stepping beside Rodney. “It may not work. We may end up making it worse. McKay Medical didn’t invent the technology Mr. Wallace.” She glanced sideways at Rodney, appearing unsure how much she should say.

"Don't lie to me! I got the tech straight from your company's server."

"Stole it, you mean," he said, upset that anyone, least of all this lunatic, could hack into his system. The nanite information was on a secure drive, accessible only to him, Jeannie, and a few of their top scientists. The firewall was of his own design. "How did -"

“Please, Mr. Wallace,” Jeannie interrupted, digging her fingers into Rodney’s forearm, “if you let us go, we can get Sharon to a special medical facility that has some of the best doctors in the world.”

“Sure,” Rodney agreed, tugging his abused arm away from his sister’s viciously sharp nails. “We can do that.”

Wallace snorted. “The best doctors in the world have already seen my daughter.” He narrowed his eyes, his voice rigid as he said, “You _will_ get the nanites fully operational.”

“No,” Rodney said, crossing his arms.

“Rodney,” Jeannie warned, looking at him sharply.

“You shouldn’t refuse me, Dr. McKay. I don’t want to hurt either of you, but I will.” Wallace's expression was almost frantic, eyes darting around the room. He opened a cabinet and took out a large syringe.

Rodney's eyes went wide and he grabbed Jeannie instinctually, what the fuck was in that syringe? But before Wallace could take another step, a loud blast hit the door. Rodney flinched at the unexpected noise, shielding Jeannie's body as the door was kicked down. Several men entered the room and one had Wallace pinned to the ground before Rodney could process that they were soldiers.

"Are you two alright?" a familiar voice asked and Rodney turned around.

"Major Carter. You have no idea how happy I am to see you," he said, closing his eyes briefly in relief and letting go of Jeannie. They were safe, it was ov--

Several shots rang out. What the hell?! "You didn't get them all? What kind of soldier are you?!" Rodney roared at Sam, pulling Jeannie close, but Sam wasn't paying him any attention, already barking out orders as the soldiers hustled out.

Sam turned to him and said, "We need to get the two of you out of here."

"No, shit, did you just -" He clamped his mouth shut as the sound of more gunfire filled his ears. Sam was talking on his radio so Rodney turned his attention to Jeannie.

"What are they still doing here, Sam?"

Sheppard. Christ, it was John Sheppard.

"The Daedalus is trying to get a lock on our position, Colonel. There's some kind of shielding around the building," Sam said.

"Great," John said, frowning. "All right, time for plan b." He started to leave, but Rodney grabbed his arm before he could disappear again.

"What the hell is going on? What's Daedalus? What are you doing here, Sheppard?" he demanded, not knowing which he wanted an answer to first. No, he did know, it was the last one. Four years. It had been four fucking _years_ of nothing, no sign of John Sheppard. Rodney had looked and it was like John had disappeared off the face of the planet. And now, John was here, standing not two feet away from Rodney.

"Hi, Rodney," John drawled, one side of his mouth curving up. "It's been awhile."

Rodney clenched his fists, irritated by John's attitude. "I see you're still brain damaged," he replied and John's face split into a grin. Oh, no. No no no no no. No way was he letting that grin get to him. Not again.

"They have a lock," Sam said. And the world went sort of fuzzy for short moment and then Rodney was definitely not in a lab any longer.

"Oh my," he breathed as he took in his surroundings. He knew his mouth was hanging open but - he was...this was...he turned back to John. "The Daedalus, it's - we're in a spaceship."

John looked like a kid in a candy store. "Cool, huh?"

"How is this possible?" Jeannie asked, her arm still not letting go of Rodney.

"If you'll both come with me, I'll explain." Sam said, gesturing to one of the passageways. "After you sign some paperwork," he added with a small smirk.

"Of course," Jeannie said, following Sam and pulling Rodney along. He took three steps before pivoting his head to glance at John.

John was talking to someone else, an older bald man in a green flight suit, not paying Rodney the slightest attention.

"Rodney?" he heard Jeannie call and avoided her eyes as he trailed after Sam.

  
~ ~ ~ ~

  
“It’s all so incredible,” Jeannie said, taking a bite of her roast beef sandwich. “The stargate, teleportation, _aliens_."

“Yes, yes, incredible,” he said around a mouthful of cheese pizza. The idea of extra-terrestrial life wasn’t surprising to Rodney; he had always expected there were other life forms somewhere in the vast universe.

Jeannie tilted her head sideways, looking at him reproachfully ably. “You can’t still be upset-“

“I most definitely can,” he snapped, dropping his pizza slice on his plate. “Ten years. Ten years since they discovered the stargate, since they have been going to other planets and acquiring alien technology. These people have gone to – they’re _living_ in another galaxy. Atlantis, supposedly made up of the best and brightest.” Rodney was angry, felt it throbbing in his veins.

“Rodney-“

“I’m the smartest person on the planet. They should have asked me years ago," he said sourly.

Jeannie reached for his arm covering it with her hand. “But they asked you yesterday, that has to count for something, doesn’t it?”

“They asked _us_, Jeannie.” Not him. All his life he’s come in second behind his sister, she always seemed to get to everything first, and he was just along for the ride. Pegasus Labs was the one thing that was all him, and he didn’t have that anymore. He had sold it when he joined McKay Medical.

“Are you going to go?” she asked. “You should.”

“We’re the only family we have left – I’m not, I can’t…” He twisted his hand up, grabbing Jeannie's wrist. “You’re the one who taught me how important family is,” he said softy into her eyes. “I’m not leaving you and Madison.”

She smiled warmly at him. “I love you.”

Rodney coughed. “Yes well, me too,” he replied, looking down at his plate then Jeannie’s. “Hey, you going to eat your jello?”

  
~ ~ ~ ~

  
Rodney reached out slowly, stopping only a couple inches away from the metal ring. He took a deep breath and he reached out again, flattening his palm against the device.

The stargate.

He curved his hand around the outer ring, moving it up to touch one of the chevrons. It was amazing, he hoped he’d get to see the gate in action before he returned to New York, to see an actual wormhole –

He heard heavy foot steps marching up the ramp behind him but didn’t turn around.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” John said and Rodney abruptly let go.

“It’s just an enormous superconductor.”

“You should see the one on Atlantis,” he continued, as if Rodney hadn’t spoken. “It’s a newer model and –“

“I’ve read the reports, Sheppard, I know," he said, turning around to face John.

John rubbed the back of his neck and said, “The Daedalus doesn’t leave until the morning, you can still come.”

"Why do you care?"

"We could always use more good scientists on Atlantis," John answered, shrugging. Rodney raised an eyebrow, not satisfied. "Look," John said, setting his hands on his hips, "I know you read the reports. The replicators are kicking our ass - and Sam says you're good with nanite tech."

“Of course I am,” he said, puffing out his chest. Wait a minute. “You want me to fight the replicators, are you insane?!”

“I want you on my team, McKay.”

“Your t-team…” he staggered, searching John’s eyes briefly before regaining his wits. “That’s probably not a good idea. I don’t know how to fight or fire a gun and I’m really not the outdoorsy type.” Not to mention he was scared stiff at the prospect of encountering a Wraith. Or unfriendly natives. “And I’m not the best with people. That’s what the teams do, isn’t it? Meet new people, explore new worlds.” He wasn’t looking at John anymore, immersed in the possibility and god help him, wanting it. But. “No, definitely not a good idea. I don’t want to die.”

“You won’t die.” There was something about the way John said that, it made Rodney almost believe him. “I’ll protect you.”

“You’ll protect me…” And people thought _he_ was arrogant. He drew himself to his full height, which sadly was a little shorter than Sheppard. “Just like you protected Gall and Ford?”

The reaction in Sheppard was instantaneous, his spine snapping straight, the unmistakable clenching of his jaw, the blankness of his face. Rodney knew his words had stung. “I haven’t given up on Ford,” John said quietly, looking directly at the far wall, unblinking.

“See you around, Sheppard,” he said and strode down the ramp. He didn't feel bad - he didn't owe John anything.

  
~ ~ ~ ~

  
In the few days he’d been at the SGC, he’d never seen the corridors as crowded as they were this morning. Rows of people and the occasional piece of cargo that were waiting to board the Daedalus.

He couldn’t get away fast enough, relieved when he finally reached the personal quarters and opened the door to his assigned room.

“Jeannie,” he said. She jumped up from the bed, where she had been staring at the wall, thinking goodness knows what. Wait. “Where’s my stuff?”

“On the Daedalus," she explained and Rodney froze. “Oh and don’t worry about the rest of your things, I had Michelle overnight them.”

"I said I wasn't going," Rodney said, trying to process why his sister would do this. "Why would you -"

“Because you want to go,” she answered, laying a hand on his arm. “I’ve known you since the day you were born, Rodney, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you want anything more.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he said firmly.

“If you don’t go, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. And you won’t be leaving me, I’ll be expecting you every Christmas and any vacations you get. Oh, and weekly e-mails. Weekly,” she repeated, giving him a hard poke in the chest. Jeannie may have put on a good show, but he could see the wetness in her eyes, the slight shaking of her shoulders.

“Jeannie.” It seemed to be the only thing he was capable of saying and suddenly she was in his arms. She always did give the best hugs.

“I want you to be happy.”

“What about you?” he asked, her familiar-smelling hair tickling his nose.

“I have Madison and the company,” she replied as they pulled away from each other. “It’s your turn now.” The smile on her lips looked misplaced as moisture gathered in her eyes. “Come on, you don’t want to miss your ride.”

  
~ ~ ~ ~

  
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Rodney said to the airman that had escorted him to his quarters for the next eighteen days. “Bunk beds?”

“Sorry, sir. Space is limited, so everyone has to share.”

Rodney scowled, eyeing the tiny space. “Just show me where the cafeteria is.”

Once he had some protein and sugar in him, he returned, unsurprised to find John lounging around on the bottom bed reading a golfing magazine.

“I prefer the bottom,” he told flatly. John smirked, opening his mouth but Rodney was faster. “I meant the bottom bunk.”

John closed the magazine with a shrug, climbing out of the bed lazily, his black shirt rising to show a patch of hairy belly. Rodney tried not to stare at the glimpse of skin but knew he failed when Sheppard’s mouth quirked further up. “Lucky for you, I prefer the top,” he drawled, tossing the magazine on the top mattress.

Rodney huffed out a deep breath, spotted his laptop resting on the small desk and went to retrieve it.

John’s radio chirped and he tapped his earpiece. “On my way,” he said a moment later. “See you tonight, Rodney,” he added as he rushed out.

While the laptop was booting up, Rodney arranged a pillow against the wall, found a somewhat comfortable position on the thin mattress, and tried to ignore the warm spot John’s body had left.

He went to bed early that night, before John returned. He was tired.

He tossed and turned, dozing for a few minutes before getting restless again, and it was the creak of John climbing into the bunk bed that was his lullaby.

  
~ ~ ~ ~

  
Over the next few days, Rodney immersed himself in reading mission reports, every one he could get his hands on. Ten years was a long time but he had no doubt his superior brain could handle it, that he’d be running circles around the other scientists in no time.

He spent countless hours in the engine room, in Engineering, in any room they would let him in. He would return to his assigned quarters late and get up long after John had left. He outlined a schedule for each day, ensuring he would be as up to date as anyone could in eighteen days.

On the fifth day, his schedule was blown to hell. One of the new marines was found dead - murdered - in a rarely used corridor. He was confined to his quarters, as were most personnel, until the culprit was found.

Rodney looked down, sure if the floor had been carpeted that his pacing would have put a hole in it.

He collapsed on the bed. There was a killer on the ship. Somewhere out there - where John was. He glanced at his watch. It'd been seven hours since he last heard anything. He’s been up for twenty-two hours, but he wasn’t tired, couldn’t think about sleep. Not when John had been up for even longer.

He heard the thunk of the door unlocking and held his breath, releasing it when he saw John.

Christ, he looked like hell, run-down and raw and a little broken.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked and immediately realized what a stupid question it was. Of course John wasn’t okay.

“We found her,” John said as he trudged inside.

“Her?”

“Yeah,” John said, running a hand through his hair. “I, um, I’m going to clean up.”

“Sure,” Rodney said but didn’t think John heard him, he was already heading towards the small bathroom. After a few minutes, he heard the shower turn on and busied himself by changing into his pajamas.

When John came out, hair damp and only a towel wrapped around his waist, Rodney’s pulse kicked into triple time as his mouth went dry. He wanted to reach out and touch the miles of golden skin.

He bit his lip, thankful that John seemed to not be paying him any attention, heading for the small dresser and opening the top shelf. John glanced down at the folded clothes for a few seconds, his head bowed and body sagging. “We lost Stackhouse,” he whispered. Only the side of John’s face was visible to Rodney, but it was enough for Rodney to see the strain of holding himself together.

“I’m sorry,” Rodney said, moving cautiously closer to John, unsure how to comfort him, if John even wanted it. He settled for placing a reassuring hand on John’s shoulder. “I… from what I read, he sounded like a good man.”

“He was,” John said, turning to face him. The guilt in John’s eyes made Rodney’s breath catch and he suddenly realized how personally John took losing people.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry," Rodney said, feeling horrible about how mean he was to John earlier. "What I said in the gate room, about Gall and Ford, it was – I didn’t – I’m sure you did everything you could.”

“I haven’t given up on Ford,” he echoed, steadfast and yet a bit lost. It broke something inside of Rodney.

“I’ll help you find him, when we get to Atlantis, I’ll help…I’ll - ” _find him for you_, he wanted to say, but knew better than to make empty promises. He searched John’s face, trying to figure out how to help him. John’s hazel eyes locked with his and Rodney had no idea who moved first but then their lips were touching tentatively, carefully skimming together. He slide his hand up to John’s neck, felt his pulse thumping, strong and steady, against his palm.

John opened his mouth and Rodney couldn't help the low sound emitting from his throat, sliping his tongue into John’s sweet mouth. John hesitated at first but after a few seconds John gripped his shoulders and pulled him in until their chests were flush against each other, the water from John’s skin soaking into Rodney.

John was holding Rodney as if he might never let go, keeping the kiss slow when Rodney tried to deepen it. John’s tongue lazily tangling with Rodney’s until Rodney's toes curled.

He’d forgotten what a remarkable kisser John was, just how quickly John's kisses rendered him stupid and speechless and hard.

Rodney ripped off the towel and looked down. John’s cock was soft. He lifted a curious eye to John, whose cheeks were pinking. “I um…” he mumbled.

“You’re exhausted,” Rodney said quickly. “Bed,” he ordered and lead John the few steps to the bunks and automatically nudged him into the bottom mattress. He shut off the lights and crawled in beside John, pulling the covers over them. “Sleep now, hot sex in the morning.”

John barked out a laugh, curling around him. “It’s been a few years, McKay, maybe it won’t be as hot as we remember.”

Rodney harrumphed. “Not possible,” he said with a yawn. As an afterthought he added, “If you’re here in the morning, that is.”

“Where would I go, McKay?” he asked with a snort, leaning in to nip at Rodney’s lower lip. “We’re stuck on a spaceship."

 


End file.
